


100 Songs, 100 Stories

by deareli



Category: Original Work
Genre: 100 story challenge, Alcohol, Drugs, More tags to be added, Music, Music Shuffle Challenge, One Night Stand, Original work - Freeform, Songs, Trigger Warnings, as more chapters come, challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21790912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deareli/pseuds/deareli
Summary: I put my two biggest playlists on shuffle, chose 100 songs and will create a story for each song with only original work and characters.[ Please reach each author's note at the beginning of each chapter for any potential trigger warnings ]





	1. 21 Devils

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a new idea i have. i want to do more original work, so im going to try to stick to this as much as possible.
> 
> first song is: 21 devils by super cruel ft ocean grove
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, drugs, mental illness**

She regretted it the next morning.

Waking up with a hangover, eyes fluttering and a warm presence next to her, Alys raised a pale hand to her forehead, letting herself try to think through the haze of pain settling in her head. The headaches always follow the night before, and she could never remember anything past her second drink.

This had become her routine for years.

She turned her head after a moment, the bed empty from what she knew was another one night stand. Alys had a vague memory of chatting up a blonde at The Tempest, where she tends to be a regular. But it gets a bit blurry after that.

Alys sat up in bed, letting the room spin for a moment as the effects from last night fully hit. After a moment she stood shakily on both legs, beer and wine bottles scattered around the floor. She grabbed a faded grey shirt on her desk chair and put it on, followed by some clean black underwear and stumbled out of her small bedroom into her bathroom.

Her bathroom sink was a mess, ashes and makeup strewn about, smudges on the mirror and a broken wine glass that she should really clean up.

She ignored the mess, however, and stared at herself in the mirror. Dead, dull green eyes stared back with dark circles underneath. She had leftover mascara on, with black smudged over her eyes. She brought a hand up, rubbing her eyes and trying to remove it.

It didn’t work.

Of course it didn’t work, but she tried it anyways. She could see a couple of dark marks around her neck, and dimly realised the girl must have left some hickies on her. The marks themselves looked nice, but she would have to cover them if she went to work.

She turned away from the mirror, unable to stand looking at herself again, and instead made her way to the kitchen. Coffee would help.

Stumbling into the kitchen, she bit back tears as she made coffee, her movements feeling robotic and almost not real. She didn’t feel real, she almost never did. Running her hand through her hair, distantly noting that it needed another wash, she poured the coffee into her one clean mug. She made a mental note to clean some of the dishes, but figured that there wasn’t really a point anymore.

She leant against the counter, sipping the coffee and ignoring the slight burn on her tongue. The pain brought her back to reality, making her feel almost human again for a moment. She rested the cup down on the counter, the coffee tasting like ash in her mouth.

Her entire body was shaking, the realisation that she was getting worse, and that it was her fault, hitting her all over again. But she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to get better. And that was the part that scared her.

She moved back into the bathroom, coffee now forgotten as she turned the shower on, hopping under the boiling water and letting it wash over her. The water left red marks all over her body, but she simply stood there, eyes staring at a crack in the tiles. After a moment she washed through her long hair, hoping to get some of the grease out.

Once her shower was finished, she stepped out feeling empty. Her body was moving but she didn’t feel there anymore. She knew she was getting dressed, and brushing her hair into a ponytail. Hands reaching over to the left-over joint laying on her bedside table and she knew, once she lit it, that she would return to her routine once again. 

Just to feel normal again.


	2. Sad Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad Guy - Sly Withers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second song is sad guy by sly withers! hope y'all enjoy and it isn't too bad
> 
> ***TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of alcohol, drugs and implied passive suicidal thoughts***

It had been a week since his girlfriend of four years had broken up with him. She had ended things on a polite note, buying him lunch and at least telling him face to face with the nicest words possible. Or at least, he figured they were nice.

 _“I don’t feel that way about you anymore.”_ Was at least much better than his previous girlfriend’s way, when she admitted to cheating on him because she was bored.

He had to admit though, sitting on the floor against his bed with a bottle of beer in his hand, that he was glad she ended it. He wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he would have wanted the relationship to go on for.

He always didn’t want to commit to something he wasn’t sure about. It was one of his worst traits, he realised with a dark sort of laugh. He downed the rest of the beer, letting the bottle drop to the floor as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head.

A shrill noise from the left of his bed sounded, and he picked up his phone, answering with a rough “hello?”

 _“Hey, Vic. We’re headed out tonight again, wanna come?”_ it was his friend, Isaac. Vic, who already felt like hell, bit back a groan. _“I know you’re probably not up to much, Isabella told us. But it’s just a small night. Promise.”_

Victor knew for a fact that it was never a ‘small night’ when Isaac was organising it. But he hadn’t seen his friends in a while, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt.

He might be sad, but he wouldn’t let himself ignore his friends.

“Yeah sure, I’ve already had a few,” he replied, looking around at the beer bottles scattered on the ground. “Where?”

_“Downtown at Trinity. We’re starting there then maybe heading off to Tempest.”_

“I’ll meet you there,” Victor said, hanging up the phone and turning to the body-length mirror he had next to his bed.

His hair, curly and black and all over the place, was probably not going to get any better looking than it was currently, so he ignored it and looked at his clothes. He knew he looked like a generic ‘pretty boy’ one would find on social media, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He changed into some better looking clothes – black jeans rolled up over some boots with a button up floral shirt tucked in to it – and did his best to make his hair look at least somewhat presentable.

Looking over himself, he nodded. It would do.

\--

The routine began again.

He didn’t remember much of the night before, only meeting up with Isaac and his friends, being at _Trinity_ , and that’s it.

He rubbed his eyes, feeling his head pound from the obvious hangover and his entire body ache from the effects of whatever he had taken last night were wearing off. He noticed he only had underwear on, and almost groaned at the thought that he had done it _again_.

Victor didn’t have to look beside him to know there was a girl laying there – who’s name he couldn’t even remember – and the lack of clothes she was wearing. So instead, he stumbled out of bed and put on an old shirt, leaving the room not looking back at the bed for one moment as he went to make himself coffee.

He had fallen back into his old routine, but he didn’t actually think he ever got out of it. Once out of a relationship, he would sleep with the first girl who wanted him and he would forget them the next morning. He knew it was unhealthy, knew that it was damaging to drink every night and go out but he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to stop.

Once the girl woke up – Emily, her name was – he sent her on her way after apologising to her for not remembering the night before. She had told him it was alright and asked him to look after himself, and it made him hate himself a little bit more.

He hadn’t moved from the door once she left, choosing to sit down against it with his head in his hands, yet no tears falling. He didn’t think he really deserved to cry, or to even feel sad. He brought this on himself every time. It was the reason he lost so many amazing people, his job and why he had dropped out of college.

He pulled himself up off the floor after a moment, knowing he needed to go to work again in an hour, so he should probably get ready.

\--

After work was rough. He was tired, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget the world. Or go out and drink again.

He shouldn’t though. Cutting off the routine would be healthy. It would help him be happy again, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be happy or if he wanted to stay sad. Sad, melancholic and just making his way through his life.

He was fine being the ‘sad guy’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment telling me what you think! i promise there are some happier songs coming up

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what y'all think!


End file.
